


just the outlines of our hands

by tomhardad



Category: Suburra - La Serie | Suburra: Blood on Rome (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon Fix-It, idek which tags to use i just Cannot Accept that ending lmao, spoilers for suburra season 3 ofc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:21:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27506767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomhardad/pseuds/tomhardad
Summary: Dying, as it turns out, is easy. It's the easiest decision Aureliano's ever taken.[or i couldn't accept the suburra finale so i wrote this to cope ❤]
Relationships: Aureliano Adami/Alberto "Spadino" Anacleti
Comments: 5
Kudos: 68





	just the outlines of our hands

**Author's Note:**

> so. there was one person who died after that suburra finale and it was me 🤧
> 
> since i can't personally fistfight the writers aureliano adami style, this is what i wrote to cope. title from daughter's tomorrow bc apparently this is the daughter cinematic universe now :)
> 
> minimally edited, this is probably too messy but. i hope u like it!

Dying, as it turns out, is easy. 

Aureliano makes his decision as he stares into the eyes of the one person who knows him completely, who sees the darkness in his soul and doesn’t flinch, doesn’t run away. Spadino is _terrified_ , he knows this by looking at his beautiful brown eyes, a discarded pistol laying a couple of feet away from him. It’s hell all around them but Aureliano is calmer than he’s ever been in all his life because he _knows_ what he has to do to make that look disappear from Spadì’s face.

It’s the easiest decision he’s ever taken.

There’s an endless well of words he longs to say to Spadino but he swallows them all; it’s not the time nor the place for them. Now he can only offer him a wink and a promise: _I will keep you safe_.

Aureliano inhales deeply, lets the breath out through his mouth, his pistol firmly held in his grasp. He doesn’t shake and he doesn’t flinch - _I’m not afraid anymore_ , Lele’s voice speaks to him, and he agrees.

“Goodbye, bro,” he vaguely hears himself say to Spadì, a small smile tugging his lips upward before he leaves cover and pulls the trigger.

Spadino’s screams of his name are the last thing he remembers before everything goes dark.

***

Aureliano wakes up in pure agony, choking on a plastic tube that is coming out of his mouth, thrashing around like a caged animal. Pain flares up his chest and moves downward until he cannot focus on anything else, his eyes watering with unshed tears. He feels hands holding his arms steady, hears unintelligible mumbling that doesn’t even sound like italian to his ears, his throat constricting around that fucking tube. 

_I’m in hell_ , he thinks, and the tears roll down his cheeks. 

And then he hears it, the cocking of a gun on his left side. Aureliano blinks, his vision readjusting to focus on the barrel of a pistol being aimed at one of the people still gripping Aureliano’s arm. He cannot see who holds the gun but he notices how their fingers hold the grip steadily, forefinger grazing the trigger. Whoever this is, they know how to handle themselves.

“You better save his life, doc, or I promise the last thing you’ll see will be this shitty hospital room before I blow your fucking brains out.” The voice is steady, cool as an autumn breeze, and shockingly familiar. Aureliano’s heart almost stops beating.

The voice is Spadino’s.

***

_Tullio Adami stares at his son from the shores of Ostia, a stern look in his icy blue eyes. Behind him, the roar of the waves is overwhelming, the usually blue sky tinted gray, announcing rain. Aureliano notices his outstretched hand, beckoning him to the ocean, his pale face an unreadable mask._

_His mind drifts back to Spadino, safe and alive and away from this desolate place, away from_ him _._

There’s no angels in hell _, his mind provides, his feet firmly in the sand. He flexes his toes, sand clinging to his skin, the sensation real enough to be believable. Out of all the people he thought he would meet again, the last one on his list had been his father. It makes sense that he’s the first one to greet him, Aureliano knows this, but he still does not accept it._

The Devil has a fucked up sense of humor.

_Dark clouds gather on the horizon and Aureliano draws in a deep breath, blue eyes falling shut._

Spadi. I miss you every day. _How long has it been since he’s seen him in the yard? Time has always been a confusing concept to Aureliano, fleeting and everlasting in equal measure, especially when he spent it with Spadì. He thinks about how warm his brown eyes are, how they crinkle at the corners when he smiles, how his pouty lower lip is always ruddy as if he nibbles on it constantly. Aureliano remembers Spadì’s slightly crooked front tooth, his stupid mohawk and even stupider clothes, the way he dances with abandon no matter where he is, the way his presence is a balm to Aureliano’s withered soul._

_His weary sigh rattles his chest, a shudder running down his spine._ He is safe now _, Aureliano tells himself like a prayer, trying to convince himself._ He is safe.

_He looks up at his father again, a vicious man brought down by three bullets, a monster who now welcomes his son back as if it’s his place, as if nothing had happened between them._

I don’t want to be here.

_Aureliano stares deeply into his father's eyes and shakes his head vigorously. It's defiance and resolve all mixed up in one - it's a sudden yearning for new opportunities, for a new beginning. Aureliano can’t tell if anyone in their right minds would_ ever _be crazy enough to grant him that but he wants it._

_This place is not for him._

_His father's ghost lowers his hand and fades like smoke, leaving Aureliano all alone._

***

There is no sign of the plastic tube when Aureliano wakes up this time. His head feels heavy like he’s hungover, the simple movement of his eyelids enough to make him wince uncomfortably. He feels a bandage wrapped around his chest, the low whirrs and beeps of medical machines, the clip on his middle finger that monitors his heartbeat. He tries to look at his left side and groans in pain, his throat dry as sand.

“Oh my God, _Aureliano_!” It comes out as a disbelieving sigh, and Aureliano blinks when Nadia’s face comes into focus, her brown eyes watery. Her smile is blinding, like staring unblinking at the sun, and Aureliano _knows_ this must be heaven. “ _You’re_ _back_.” Nadia’s fingers brush the back of his left hand, warmth seeping through his skin like an electrical surge.

_Nadia_ , he longs to say yet nothing comes out; he merely gapes like a fish out of water, blue eyes welling up with tears. Nadia nods, a quiet understanding. “I know, Aureliano. _I know_.”

(Aureliano never notices there is another person in the room with them.)

***

_Lele smiles, leaning against the railing of Aureliano’s hotel balcony, his back to the ocean ahead. He looks better than Aureliano has seen him in a long while, brown hair long enough to be pushed behind his ear. “How are things with Spadì?” He is clearly amused, brown eyes full of mischief._

_Aureliano_ hates _how he flushes, his body betraying him before he can come up with a believable lie. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_

_Lele scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I bet you don't.” He turns to face Aureliano, a smirk tugging his lips upward. “You know he's there with you every day, right?”_

_He_ does _. Aureliano blinks and he's back in his room at the hotel, looking down at his motionless body lying in bed, both of Spadì’s hands enveloping his firmly, a faraway look in his brown eyes. Aureliano stops right next to him and only stares, surprised to notice just how much he’s changed. Spadino is wearing one of Aureliano’s shirts (his favorite gray cotton shirt that is already fraying at the collar), black jeans and a pair of old, white sneakers he had never seen him wearing, his raven-black hair falling freely across his forehead,_ begging _to be touched. There’s a light dust of stubble on his cheeks and Aureliano feels so much love for him in that moment he wonders what would happen if he just touches Spadi’s shoulder._

_“He won’t feel it, you know,” Lele is a mind reader, it seems, pulling him back to the balcony effortlessly, the ghost of Spadì’s touch leaving his left hand tingling. “You really took four bullets for him?”_

_Aureliano swallows thickly, his heart aching. “I would do it all over again too.”_

_“I know this,” Lele points back to the hotel, a frown crease between his eyebrows. “Why don’t you just tell him?”_

_Aureliano winces, memories taking him back to that abandoned compound in the outskirts of Rome, to the feel of Spadì’s too-warm hands against his icy cold cheeks, to the featherlight brush of his chapped lips against his, to the heartbreaking look in his astonishing brown eyes when Aureliano rejected and humiliated him. Aureliano could die one thousand deaths to protect Spadino and it still wouldn’t be enough to make him forgive himself for how he’s treated him then._

_“He deserves something better than me,” is what he settles for, his jaw clenching to keep more words from coming out._

_“You know, for someone who’s so smart and resourceful, you sure can be_ dense _as all fuck, Aureliano,” Lele claps his shoulder playfully before walking away._

***

When he wakes up for the third time, Aureliano stares straight into Spadino’s eyes. He is standing in front of the bed, arms folded defensively, his expression pensive. Aureliano observes him in awe, feeling a tight knot deep inside him loosening up after so long, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding.

_He is safe. I saved him._

“ _Aurelià_ ,” He is yanked from his reverie by Spadi’s voice, low and tentative as if he cannot believe this moment either. 

“ _Albè_ ,” Aureliano’s own voice is hoarse from disuse and he winces, looking around the room. “Water, please.”

Spadino moves at once, pouring water into a glass with a straw on it and angling it at him, brown eyes flickering down at Aureliano’s chapped lips. “Sip slowly.”

Aureliano tries to obey but at the first touch of water down his dry throat he groans blissfully, drinking way too much in one go and nearly choking, coughing uncontrollably. A sharp, mind-numbing pain spreads across his chest and he whimpers, closing his eyes as he leans back against the pillows, trying to breathe.

“You never learn, do you?” Aureliano freezes when he feels Spadì’s hand on his back, moving up and down in a soothing motion, warmth seeping through his thin shirt, making home in his body like it belongs there. He opens his eyes and finds Spadì merely a couple of inches away from his face, perked up on the edge of his mattress, the corner of his mouth turned upward in a smirk that Aureliano longs to kiss away.

Aureliano stops coughing yet something far more painful settles down the pit of his stomach as he gapes at Spadino’s hypnotic brown eyes, leaving Aureliano breathless. He remembers his conversation with Lele, his mind taking him back to his friend's question.

_Why don't you just tell him?_

There's a weariness on the lines around Spadì’s eyes, a hardness that speaks of suffering, of unspeakable horrors. Aureliano thinks about that night in the yard and Manfredi’s trap, anger bubbling up inside him like venom.

Spadino withdraws his hand and stands up, moving back and away from his bed. Aureliano feels as if he's been slapped. “What happened?” His heart is pounding against his breastbone but his expression is steady, blue eyes trained on Spadì’s back.

Aureliano never hears his answer because they are interrupted by a pudgy middle-aged man carrying a leather case, panting as if he's just run the Rome marathon. “Mister Adami, I'm Dr. Bianchi, I took care of your wounds,” the man says breathlessly, leaning his case on the bed. “I’m very happy to see you awake.”

_That makes one of us_. Aureliano watches with a heavy heart as Spadino leaves the room quietly, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched. 

It’s only as he leaves that Aureliano realizes Spadino was wearing his black leather jacket.

***

Turns out Dr. Bianchi has (almost) all the answers Aureliano is looking for.

He tells him Aureliano was shot four times, one of them merely three inches away from his heart, and he’d lost a significant amount of blood before he made it to the hospital Dr. Bianchi used to work at, brought there by Spadino, Nadia “and her friends”, as he vaguely put it. The doctor says Aureliano was in an induced coma for three and a half months until he was stable enough to be moved back to the hotel, where he is right now. 

This is the first time he’s been awake for longer than mere minutes.

“You are very lucky, Aureliano,” Dr. Bianchi says as he finishes inspecting his vitals, touching the tender, raised scar tissue on his chest, below his heart. “You are almost as good as new but I have to recommend that you keep on resting, drink plenty of water and take care of your food intake. Don’t exert yourself too much and you’ll be ready for physical therapy before the end of the week.”

Aureliano nods, accepting the doctor’s help to put his shirt back on. The mere effort of sitting down without leaning on the pillows leaves him exhausted, eyelids drooping fast. 

Before sleep claims him again, Aureliano manages to let out a quiet, “ _Thank you_ , doc.”

***

_Aureliano is back at the yard, his trembling back against the jeep’s tire, an ocean separating him from Spadino, who stares back imploringly, his head shaking imperceptibly as realization dawns, his fearful face pale as a sheet of paper. Aureliano barely registers all the hell that’s breaking loose down around them, his head full of Spadì, of trying to make sure he walks out of that place unscathed._

_In his reverie, however, he misses Spadino’s wink at him, and then he’s leaving cover unarmed, a wistful look in his wide brown eyes._

Aureliano wakes up with his own scream, skin clammy with cold sweat, chest heaving painfully as he tries to control his breathing. He squeezes his eyes shut but the horrifying image is already there to greet him, to _haunt_ him; Spadino getting shot multiple times as Aureliano yelled out hopelessly, Manfredi walking slowly towards his wounded body for the final shot, pistol raised against Spadino’s forehead, a deranged look in his dark eyes. “DON’T YOU TOUCH HIM!” Aureliano yells out to the empty room, tears running freely down his cheeks, feeling dreadfully cold and alone.

He hears hurried footsteps up the stairs and reaches for a gun that’s no longer under his pillow, his heart racing. For an instant Aureliano thinks it’s Spadino, rushing to his aid with a concerned look in his brown eyes, but it's Nadia who enters the room, wearing one of his old flannel jackets. “ _Breathe_ , Aurelià,” she sits on the mattress, her hands cold against his cheeks, her thumbs wiping his tears away. “Breathe with me, Aurelià.”

He does but only barely, taking in a shaky breath to match Nadia’s, holding it in for the same amount of time as she does before exhaling, his shoulders sagging. Nadia stares deeply into his eyes until his ragged breaths grow calm and Aureliano finally stops shuddering, his blue eyes clearing as the sky does after a thunderstorm.

Nadia leans forward, their foreheads touching and their breaths mingling, Nadia’s hands sliding down the nape of his neck, fingers playing with his overgrown hair. “He’s okay. You saved him,” Her eyes are closed so she can’t see how surprised Aureliano is that Nadia has been able to read him so easily.

Maybe Lele is right - maybe he _is_ dense as all fuck.

***

In his dreams, Aureliano always sees Spadino from a distance, his profile turned to him as he stares at the waves, the tips of his windswept black hair brushing his cheekbone like a lover’s caress. Aureliano’s fingers itch to run through the strands and pull them behind his pierced ear, maybe rest his thumb against his pulse point just to see what Spadì’s reaction would be like.

He almost misses the way Spadino smirks, the way the skin around the corner of his eyes creases beautifully, reminding him of the first sun rays warming up the sand after the rain is gone. _“Are you gonna stand there gawking all damn day or are you gonna_ kiss me _, Aurelià?”_ Spadino’s brown eyes are still staring at the waves but he smiles openly now, crooked tooth grazing his plump lower lip, and Aureliano doesn’t need to think twice.

(The problem is... he always wakes up before he can kiss him.)

***

Months crawl by lazily as Aureliano struggles with physical therapy, his weakened muscles aching after the simplest of movements and, to make matters worse, he rarely sees Spadino at the hotel. After that brief interlude in his room following Aureliano’s awakening, they never share more than two words with one another - usually Aureliano catches glimpses of Spadì’s back as he leaves first thing in the morning, but his return, if it happens, goes unseen.

Aureliano wonders where he hides, if maybe he is still with Angelica, taking care of her after the loss of their baby and the death of her father, both deaths that _Aureliano_ has brought about. 

_“The nightmare doesn’t end,”_ Spadino was right; it _never_ ends.

It’s almost midnight when the hotel door slams shut announcing Spadino’s return, a half-empty bottle of white wine loosely held in his grasp. He halts when he sees Aureliano leaning against the wall of the hallway, his cane laying on the floor. “What’re you doing down here?” Spadino sounds curious instead of annoyed, nestling the bottle protectively against his chest. His voice is low but his words are not slurred, which means he’s definitely not _too_ drunk.

Aureliano takes one deep breath, his cheeks burning. “Can you help me sit down, please?” He pants, sweat dripping down the back of his neck. Aureliano’s feet are slowly sliding down the linoleum floors and Spadì notices, swiftly placing the bottle on the floor before draping his arm across his shoulders, supporting most of Aureliano’s weight as he helps him get to the couch.

The contact of Spadino’s hand on his skin is brief yet Aureliano shivers, jaw clenched as he tries to not think about how _soft_ his palm is despite the roughness he's faced. If Spadino senses Aureliano's struggles he doesn't mention them, instead he gently eases him down the couch and pulls away, picking up the wine bottle again. His brown eyes are guarded, though the tender skin around them is slightly pulled, suggesting a hint of amusement. "Thank you," Aureliano smiles sheepishly, leaning his achy back against the cushions. 

Spadino nods and, to Aureliano's absolute surprise, sits down next to him for the first time in months, offering him the uncapped bottle. Theoretically he shouldn't drink (dr. Bianchi had threatened him with physical violence even though the man was probably incapable of hurting a fly) but he is nervous and stupid, and he's almost sure Spadì can hear the sound of his heartbeat so he takes the bottle, their fingers brushing briefly, and drinks the wine, reveling in the way it burns his throat. Spadino's eyes are on him as Aureliano hands him back the bottle, his brown gaze flickering down to his lips.

Aureliano gulps, transfixed. " _Albè?_ " He breathes, mouth going dry when Spadino licks his lips, the mere glimpse of his tongue leaving Aureliano dazed. He is brought back to a cold day a lifetime ago, to the feel of those soft lips against his for the briefest of moments, to a kiss that had changed _everything_.

Spadino places the bottle on the floor and turns his attention back to him, cheeks flushed a bright shade of crimson. Aureliano wants to bury his fingers in his longer hair and pull Spadì to him until their lips meet, and this time he would _never_ pull away.

“I-- I held you in my arms,” Spadino’s voice is quiet, almost as if he’s talking to himself. When his warm hands cup his bearded cheeks, Aureliano closes his blue eyes and leans against his palm, sighing. “You _died_ in my arms, Aurelià.”

Aureliano winces, taking in the hurt in Spadino’s eyes when their eyes meet again. “I wanted to keep you safe.” 

“Why did you do that?” Spadino slides his right hand down Aureliano’s chest, his palm resting against his breastbone, warmth seeping through his shirt and reaching his heart. The pad of his ring finger touches the sensitive scar on his chest and Aureliano shivers, placing his own hand on top of his. 

_Why don’t you just tell him?_

“Because I didn’t want to imagine a world without you in it. Because living without you is not worth living at all,” Aureliano inhales deeply, lets it out through his parted lips. _It’s now or never_. “Because that’s the only thing I could do to protect the love of my life.”

Aureliano waits, watching Spadino’s eyes grow big as saucers, sadness fading away like morning mist and being slowly replaced by playfulness and unbridled joy. His grin blossoms on his lips so suddenly Aureliano’s breath catches in his throat, mesmerized by his beauty. He intertwines his fingers on Spadì’s, smiling for the first time in months. “Can’t believe I finally managed to shut you up, Spadì,” he teases, looking down at his rosy lips.

Spadino scoffs, chews on his plump lower lip. “ _Fuck you_ , Aurelià.”

“Kiss me first and we’ll see where that takes us.”

Spadino doesn’t have to be told twice.

***

(Later, when the world outside is holding its breath and the first light of dawn filters in through the glass windows, Aureliano places another soft kiss to Spadino’s temple as he sleeps peacefully by his side, his hand splayed out over his heart.

“I love you, Spadì,” he mutters, and smiles.

There is no more rush now.)

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me abt that ending on tumblr if u want! i'm [@yusufnicolo](https://yusufnicolo.tumblr.com/)


End file.
